


Real Iconic

by wheel_pen



Series: Lucy [1]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex’s private investigator brings him an alarmingly large file about Lucy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Iconic

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Lucy, my original character, is Clark’s cousin on the Kent side. Although human she may have some strange psychic powers and definitely has some issues in her past. She’s having a tough time with her mom and goes to live with Jonathan and Martha for a while. She and Lex form a relationship.
> 
> 2\. In my world, Lex eventually becomes President. And his staff is from The West Wing. 
> 
> 3\. I started writing this series during the third season of Smallville, so it diverges from canon then or earlier.
> 
> 4\. Underage warning: This story may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 5\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            Lex stared intently at the numbers in the spreadsheet on his computer screen, willing them to reveal their true meaning. He just had a feeling that something was not quite right with this company’s financial practices, but his father preferred hard evidence over instinct when it came to accounting. Lex knew the solution would come to him eventually… he just didn’t know if it would come soon enough to prevent his father from investing a sizable chunk of LuthorCorp’s funds in this biotechnology start-up.

            The phone on his desk buzzed and Lex hit the speakerphone button in irritation. “What?” he asked distractedly. He had _almost_ had it.

            “Mr. Nixon here to see you, Mr. Luthor,” the guard reported quickly.

            Lex rolled his eyes. Just what he needed, more good news from his own private snitch. “Send him in.”

            Lex closed the spreadsheet and opened up a more innocuous report he was writing on the increase in corn yields due to modified fertilizer treatments on the local test plots. A man like Nixon always had his eyes open for new information, and Lex didn’t like to give him any more than was necessary. A moment later Nixon entered the office with only a perfunctory knock and seemed, Lex thought, somewhat disappointed to catch his employer only quietly typing away at the computer and not, say, snorting cocaine off a pile of stolen bonds.

            “Good afternoon, Lex,” Nixon began in that smarmy way of his, that tone of voice that made you doubt the sincerity of even the most obvious statements.

            It wasn’t that Lex didn’t believe in insincerity. Far from it. But he didn’t waste the effort on underlings who would do what they were paid to do, with or without so-called pleasantries. “What have you got for me?” Nixon held out a thick manila envelope with an unmistakable air of anticipation. Lex took it nonchalantly and unfolded the clasp. “What is it?”

            “Your little girlfriend,” Nixon responded with a slimy smirk.

            Lex gave him a chilly look and pulled out the folder inside the envelope. It was easily an inch and a half thick. “Lucy Kent?” he asked in confusion, reading the name on the tab. “You found _all this_ on Lucy?” He tried not to show the extent of his disbelief.

            It was still the moment Nixon had been waiting for. “That’s just her juvvie record,” the journalist pointed out, clearly relishing his news. “It’s even longer than yours. Pretty impressive.”

            Lex was too surprised to glare at him for that last comment. He began flipping through the file, trying to make some sense of the court reports, medical charts, and police forms. “One-line summary,” he directed Nixon.

            The journalist crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the desk. “She’s nuts,” he concluded succinctly.

            This time Lex did glare. “Two-line summary.”

            Nixon shrugged. “Mostly assaults and property destruction. Couple of suicide attempts. A few less-than-voluntary psychiatric incarcerations. She is one screwed-up kid.” He leaned in closer. “I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you.”

            “Thanks for the advice,” Lex told him coldly, pausing as a particularly… graphic photo caught his eye.

            “Did you see the artwork?” Nixon asked eagerly, circling around to Lex’s shoulder. He scrutinized the picture on display, then reached in and turned it one hundred eighty degrees.

            Suddenly the bruise- and flesh-colored shapes coalesced into a recognizable body part, and Lex nodded—then grimaced. “I think this was one of the orderlies that tried to restrain her,” Nixon pointed out. “She’s got real sharp teeth.”

            “Yeah,” Lex replied, turning the page quickly.

            “Oh, _this_ one was something else,” Nixon enthused as a new picture was turned up. “This was some kid in her old high school. Like, three high schools ago. Tried to be a hero, got between her and a pair of scissors.”

            “Well, that’s what you get for being a hero,” Lex observed dryly.

            “D—n straight,” agreed the journalist. “Wait, let me show you one.” He flipped back to the beginning and landed on a horribly-lit photo of a very young red-haired girl, face washed out, eyes bloodshot and filled with the most appalling despair Lex had ever witnessed. “First mug shot, age twelve,” Nixon announced. “It’s real iconic.”

            For a moment both men were silent, contemplating what exactly would drive a twelve-year-old girl to attack a stranger on the street. For Nixon this contemplation lasted about three seconds, then he began estimating the cash Lex was going to slip him for this prize bit of information. Still, neither of them were paying enough attention to their surroundings to notice—

            “Lex?” Nixon jumped; Lex, who did not startle easily, merely looked up suddenly and took in a breath. The sixteen-year-old girl in the doorway gave them both a look that suggested she was currently questioning _their_ sanity. “Hello, Mr. Nixon,” Lucy continued, in an almost innocent tone of voice.

            “Um, well, hello there, Lucy,” Nixon replied haltingly. Lex nudged him hard with his elbow. “Miss Kent,” he corrected himself.

            “Are you investigating another piece for the _Inquisitor_ , about the meteor rocks?” Lucy asked politely, approaching the desk. Lex smoothly closed the file and slid it into a drawer. Which he locked.

            “Yes, yes, in fact I was just doing that,” Nixon agreed quickly, backing away from the desk as Lucy drew closer. “I was just getting permission from Mr. Luthor to, um, go on some LuthorCorp land.” Which somehow reminded Nixon of the one thing he _would_ risk being near a scissor-wielding teenage psycho for. “Oh, Mr. Luthor, about that…”

            “I’ll have it sent to you,” Lex told him easily. “You can go.”

            “Right.” So, no chance to negotiate the fee then. Well, his employer usually wasn’t too stingy when he knew he had the good stuff. “So long then.”

            “Good-bye, Mr. Nixon,” Lucy called after him, mostly just to see him cringe. As soon as he was out the door and around the corner she turned back to Lex with an amused look on her face. “That guy is really weird.”

            “You intimidate him,” Lex told her lightly.

            “He’s very sneaky,” she persisted. “He’s always skulking and… watching.”

            Lex’s expression turned serious. “If he ever bothers you, you let me know.”

            “He doesn’t _bother_ me,” Lucy decided. “He just looks like he’s always up to no good. What does he do for you?”

            “Who says he does anything for me?” Lex asked her with a smile.

            “Duh,” Lucy responded, and Lex’s smile widened. “It’s _pretty_ obvious. He comes in with a package of one size, leaves with a package of another size.” She paused, then leaned her palms on the desk and continued, “And you’re usually in a bad mood when he leaves.”

            “I’m not in a bad mood this time,” Lex pointed out, although he had to admit that she was mostly correct. Both he and Nixon would have to be more discreet, if a sixteen-year-old could figure out what they were up to. Although, he noted, she wasn’t exactly an ordinary sixteen-year-old. He had the psychiatric profile to prove it.

            Lucy smiled at him, bit her lip in what some overly suspicious people might misconstrue as a flirtatious manner. “I can’t find that book on South America.”

            “Lucy,” he began sternly.

            “I think someone keeps moving it,” she protested.

            “That someone,” he reminded her, “is you. Because you leave it lying somewhere randomly, instead of putting it back where it goes.”

            “What’s your middle name?” she asked suddenly.

            “Joseph,” he replied, after a moment to realize she’d jumped tracks.

            “I thought maybe it was Anal Retentive.”

            Lex fought back a smile, didn’t quite make it, and instead stood up. “We will go find this book, and then I will show you where it goes,” he decided, trying to sound like the older, wiser person in the room.

            She grinned. “Okay. I think I left it out by the fish pond.”

            Only one of her favorite destinations on the estate, a good ten minutes’ walk from the house. “I somehow think you didn’t,” Lex countered.

            “I might have,” Lucy insisted cheerfully. “We’d better check just in case.”

            Just like with those accounts, Lex somehow had the feeling he was being played… only in this case he didn’t mind it so much.


End file.
